From the time each of my children started school, I packed their lunches. And in each lunch, Ia note. Often written on a napkin (餐巾), it might be a thank-you for amoment, a reminder of something we were happily expecting, or a bit offor the coming test or sporting event. In early grade school theytheir notes. But as children grow older they becomes self-conscious(有自我意识的), andhe reached high school, my older son, Marc, informed me he no longermy daily notes. Telling him that he no longer needed tothem but I still needed to write them, Iuntil the day he graduated. Six years after high school graduation, Marc called and asked if he could movefor a couple of months. He had spent those years well, graduating from college,two internship (实习) in Washington, D.C., and, becoming a technical assistant in Sacramento, short vacation visits, however, he had lived away from home. With his younger sister leaving for college, I washappy to have Marc back. Since I wasmaking lunch for his younger brother, Ione for Marc, too. Imagine mywhen I got a call from my 24-yere-old son,his lunch. “Did I do something? Don’t you love me,Mom?” were just a few of the questions he threw at me as Iasked him what was wrong. “My note, Mom,” he answered. “Where’s my note?”